Shirewood

Martyn Wilcox stared across at the Year Eleven girls playing netball on the outdoor court. Their burgeoning sexuality wasn't entirely lost on him, but as Headteacher they held no real attraction for him. No, he was watching because of the teacher who was taking that class. Susan Davies was twenty-seven years old and had started at Shirewood High School a month ago.

She was about five foot six inches tall. Not stunning to look at, but certainly not plain; depending on his mood he would have described her as either attractive or very attractive. She had shoulder length blonde hair and as you might have expected a trim athletic build (not skinny, but nicely toned). Her breasts were one of her finest features. They were quite prominent given her build -- 36D was his guess. Almost certainly not double D.

One reason why she had got the job was because her husband, Simon, had taught Geography at Shirewood for seven years. It intrigued, and mildly irritated him that she was married to Simon. A competent, but completely characterless, man who, at an age of forty one, was fourteen years her senior and looked and acted like a man of sixty.

Martyn couldn't for the life of him understand what she saw in him. She was an attractive young woman married to a grey middle-aged man.

That was the point - did she still see anything in him? To Martyn Wilcox they looked like yet another stale married couple who were stuck in a rut. Inevitably he found himself wondering what their sex life was like. He couldn't imagine Simon ramming it home and drawing cries of ecstasy from her; frankly he didn't seem to have the balls for it.

If that was the case then it was a great shame if Susan's wonderful body was going to waste. He guessed that some of his male colleagues also took that view. He'd intercepted their shrewd looks and noted that they behaved towards her in a slightly warmer, friendlier way than was necessary.

If she did have an affair with one of the other staff it would be a deep disappointment to him. He was alpha male at this school, the other teachers respected him, feared him even. He took some pride in that. He wasn't bothered about having a friendly relationship with the other staff. He was the man in charge so he had to keep his distance, but he would be prepared to make an exception for Susan.

He thought back to that afternoon nine years ago when his wife Angela had come home unexpectedly and caught him in their bed with Mary. The marriage was broken anyway and divorce came as a relief to them both.

Mary had been a teacher at the nearby junior school. Her dark gypsy looks, and in particular her long curly black hair had bewitched him and in due course he had found that she had a wonderfully furry pussy. The first time with her had been so memorable.

They were parked up in his car on their way back from an education committee meeting. Although she was married he had guessed correctly that she would be receptive to his kisses and caresses. He had tried to slide his hand up her dress, but hadn't been surprised when she stopped him. He had no expectation that she would go all the way on the first occasion, so he'd been quite happy to return his attention to her breasts. Nevertheless he couldn't resist teasing her and saying something about slipping her knickers off. Imagine his surprise then when Mary swore him to secrecy and reclined the car seat.

He could still see it vividly in his mind, like some kind of personal blue movie running in slow motion. Mary pulling up that white dress so that it was round her waist. Then hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her lacy peach coloured knickers and peeling them down. A forest of black curls had appeared and then she spread her legs in invitation.

There had been no foreplay. He pulled his trousers down as quickly as possible, climbed on top of her and thrust wildly at her. She was so wet that his prick sank deep into her with that first push. What a feeling that had been -- the warmth and wetness of her lovely tight slit. His prick hardened as he thought of that first frantic fuck and how Mary had cried with pleasure as he gave a final thrust and emptied his balls into her.

Afterwards he had dropped her back home and driven away smiling in the knowledge that she was returning to her husband with his sperm deep inside her.

There had followed two months of illicit sex, culminating in that afternoon when Angela had found them. Fortunately Angela wanted a quick and private divorce and, although doubtless there were rumours, the details had not become public. Soon afterwards Mary had moved to another job and nowadays he never saw her, professionally or otherwise.

In the intervening years there had been a few women in his life, but lately there was no denying it had been a dry spell.

Two weeks later at a parents evening he had taken the opportunity to chat with Susan and see how she was settling in. It confirmed his impression that she was a bright attractive woman who was wasted on Simon. Somewhat to his surprise they got on quite well and the conversation was friendlier than most he had with staff members. He kept running it though in his mind -- perhaps he was reading too much into it, but there did seem to be some sort of connection between them.

In normal circumstances it's likely that nothing further would have happened, but then came one of those coincidences that throws up an unexpected opportunity.

In the space of three days some anomalies arose in the finances for the geography field trip being led by Simon Davies and a complaint was lodged about Susan behaving inappropriately towards a teenage boy.

Martyn would normally have launched a prompt and thorough investigation, but this time he took a special interest and did not delegate any of the investigation, something he might otherwise have done.

Within a few days he had proof that Simon was guilty of nothing more than being pretty incompetent at bookkeeping. There was no evidence to support the allegations against Susan and there were several minor details which didn't exactly prove her innocence, but taken together they clearly indicated that her version of events was true.

Obviously he could have tied it all up relatively quickly, but it was Friday and he decided to leave taking any action until Monday. He had determined on the best course of action, but he felt that a couple of days delay with Simon and Susan worrying about their jobs might be in his interest.

On Monday morning he sent messages that both of them were to report to his office at 4:30pm. The school would be relatively quiet then.

The hours can drag by on a Monday at the best of times, but for all three of the participants it seemed to take a long time before 4:30 arrived, but finally Simon and Susan were sat outside the Head's office. Simon looked nervous and even paler than usual. Susan had reassured him that they had nothing to worry about, but inside she felt much less certain. Every teacher had heard of others whose careers were ruined by false and vindictive accusations.

Susan was called into the Head's office first and sat facing him. She tried to look calm, but felt very nervous. Martyn gave her a cool appraising look.

"I'll come straight to the point. These are serious accusations, but I'm prepared to help you. I can straighten everything out for you and for Simon, but in return I want you to help me."

Susan was surprised. There were various things she thought the Head might say, but this wasn't one of them and she didn't really understand it.

"Sorry, but what sort of help do you need?"

"I want you to come round to my house on Friday evening. You will wear a blouse and skirt, black or red underwear, lace top stockings or hold-ups and high heels. I will undress you and I will make love to you."

Even as he said it he realised that this could be the end of his career, but the words were out of his mouth and he couldn't take them back. They stared at each other for what seemed like a long time, the silence emphasised by the chatter of a magpie on the lawn outside. Finally Susan spoke.

"What about Simon?"

Martyn blinked and had to struggle not to break into a huge grin; it was going to be fine. Simon was scared of his own shadow; taking care of him wasn't a problem.

"What about Simon?" he repeated. "Send Simon in and I'll sort him out."

Susan hesitated, then rose and went out. Simon looked up and without giving anything away she told him it was his turn to go into the office. Simon closed the door carefully and sat down. Martyn leaned forward in his chair.

"I've spoken with Susan and I'm prepared to help you both. I can sort this out for you, but in return you have to bring Susan round to my house on Friday evening."

"Bring her round, but what..."

"She'll have on a blouse and skirt, black or red underwear, stockings or hold-ups and high heels."

Simon was astonished.

"But you mean...she's my wife!"

"Yes she's your wife and I'm going to fuck her. Either that or you're both out of a job. She's not stupid, she's happy to do it, so you'd better get used to the idea."

Simon's shoulders sagged. If Susan had agreed then he didn't see that he had any option but to go along with the plan. His hands twisted nervously in his lap.

"Eight o'clock on Friday. Be prompt and don't worry it will all work out fine. I want you to drive her round and wait for her afterwards."

* * * * *

Seven thirty on Friday. Susan sat in front of the dressing table mirror. She was wearing black knickers embroidered with red roses. She had on a matching semi-transparent bra which only partially hid her prominent nipples and large dark aureole.

Simon watched her putting her lipstick on and felt a stirring in his groin. He didn't think he'd ever seen her looking so lovely. The underwear contrasted beautifully with her fair skin and the black lace top hold-ups clung to her toned thighs.

He felt a surge of resentment. Susan had surprised him by going out straight after school on Wednesday and coming back with the underwear and hold-ups. He couldn't help feeling jealous, even though he knew she was doing this for his sake.

No that wasn't true. He wasn't sure she was doing it for his sake. There was too much care going into her preparations, he couldn't think of a time when she had taken so much trouble for his benefit. Her whole appearance was that of a woman preparing herself for her lover.

He knew he ought to challenge her, but was scared of the truths that might be revealed. He was actually rather in awe of Susan. Six years ago he had been surprised when this attractive young woman had accepted his invitation to dinner and their developing relationship had delighted him.

Some women look at their best as teenagers, but Susan didn't really blossom until she was in her twenties. At school and university she'd been shy and awkward. It was only now that she was finding her true self. And the truth was that, although there was nothing to really complain about, her life was, frankly, a bit boring.

Simon was pleasant but uninspired and in bed he was competent, but unimaginative. She wanted to feel some real passion. At university there had been a couple of fumbling, awkward couplings with randy youths. She knew there had to be to something better than all this. She wanted a man who took her and made her feel desirable, a real woman.

It had come as a surprise that the man who actually stirred her feelings was twice her age. Martyn Wilcox was an intimidating man - just over six foot tall, broad shouldered and not carrying any excess weight. She had looked at him and wondered why some men became more distinguished with age, whilst others shrivel and wither.

At the first staff meeting she had admired his unchallenged authority as he issued instructions. He wouldn't make love to her diffidently like Simon did, forever asking if it was OK and was he doing it right. He would take her, possess her, fuck her senseless. Well that was what she hoped and tonight she would find out.

She stood up and reached a blouse down from its hanger. She slipped it on and fastened the buttons. It was slightly see-through and a quick glance in the mirror confirmed that her black bra showed through it. Normally she would have condemned that as a bit sluttish, but tonight it didn't matter.

Next she pulled on a black skirt which went to just above her knees and then slipped on her black high heeled shoes. She checked the effect in the mirror and liked what she saw. It wasn't vanity or arrogance that made her realise she was in her prime; it was just obvious that this was the best she had ever looked.

* * * * *

Martyn Wilcox watched her getting out of the car and did a quick double take. This wasn't Susan Davies the attractive, but everyday schoolteacher he was used to seeing. This was a more polished, alluring and infinitely more beautiful woman. He hurried to the door and showed them in.

Anyone watching would have assumed he was greeting friends who were round for a drink, but Martyn felt a spine-tingling sensation knowing that this attractive young woman would soon be spreading her legs for him.

"Go through into the lounge," he gestured with his hand. They went through into a standard suburban living room -- three-piece suite, TV, a bookcase. Through the window the evening gloom almost hid a lawn which sloped down to a fence with farmland beyond.

"Sit down, please. Would you like a drink?"

"Red wine would be nice," said Susan.

"A soft drink for me," said Simon. "I'm driving."

They sat in silence while Martyn busied himself in the kitchen. He soon returned and passed the glasses to them.

"We'll get straight on to the reason why you're here. Susan what you're wearing is perfect -- you look very attractive. Are those stockings or hold-ups?"

Susan blushed slightly, then stood up. She raised the hem of her skirt so that first the lace tops to her hold-ups were displayed, then her black knickers. Martyn nodded his approval. The red roses complemented the black colour perfectly, but best of all the lacy front panel gave him a tantalising glimpse of her blonde pubic hairs.

"Perfect. Take your wine and head upstairs. You'll see that a bedroom door is open."

Once Susan had left the room he turned to Simon.

"Wait here. I don't know how long we'll be. You can watch the television if you want -- the remote control is on the coffee table."

Having dealt with Simon he left the room and headed upstairs. When he entered the bedroom Susan was stood by the window. The curtains were drawn and the room was illuminated by a shaded lamp in one corner.

Martyn admired her afresh. She was half his age, good looking and fate had made her available. Realistically he knew that this would probably be the last time he would experience the pleasure of a young woman's body; unless of course he was prepared to pay for it, and that didn't appeal. No, he was going to make the most of this opportunity.

"Take your skirt off," he said.

Susan made only the briefest of hesitations, and then fumbled with the zip. To her annoyance her fingers were trembling slightly, but she soon removed the skirt and threw it to one side.

"Go on the bed," said Martyn and she slipped her shoes off and climbed on the bed.

"Part your legs. And stroke your thighs."

Susan spread her legs and used both hands to stroke her inner thighs.

"Higher."

Both hands moved up and continued with a circular stroking motion, the upper limits of which touched her knickers.

"Higher."

Susan hesitated, then closed her eyes and slid her right hand upwards and cupped her pussy through her knickers. Her fingers rubbed gently against her knickers, the dampness of the fabric a confirmation of the flow of juices to her love hole.

Masturbation had always been a secret pleasure for her and almost forgetting that Martyn was there she slipped one hand inside her knickers and touched her pussy. She was very wet and more aroused than she had been for a long time.

Martyn watched entranced. It was as though he had blown a thick layer of dust off an old painting and been confronted with a masterpiece. He had secretly been prepared for tonight to be a failure or simply functional sex with a woman who disliked him and was doing it against her will. But he was unprepared for this -- the most erotic sight he had ever seen. She was playing with her clitoris and sliding one finger in and out of her pussy.

"Take your knickers off," he urged her, wanting to have an uninterrupted view of what was happening. Susan duly slid her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers, lifted her bottom off the bed, pulled her knickers down and tossed them to one side.

Her hands went back to her pussy and Martyn saw the glisten of love juices and heard the sounds of a well-lubricated slit. This wasn't what how he had planned it. He had imagined a slower build-up to allow him to savour the moment, but that was no good, he realised he had to have her.

Hurriedly he unfastened his shirt, pulled his shoes and socks off, rapidly followed by his trousers and pants. Naked and with his cock swinging obscenely in front of him he climbed on the bed. Susan moved her hands and in one movement he fell between her legs and thrust his cock into her.

Her cunt lips parted easily and Susan cried out as the full length of his hot, hard cock plunged deep inside her. She cried out as he thrust again and again and then suddenly she felt his cock stiffen and swell and there was a massive eruption as his cock jerked inside her and he flooded her with his sperm.

He clung motionless to her and for the first time Susan thought of her husband in the room directly beneath them.

Simon could indeed hear everything. He couldn't tell what Martyn was saying, but he could easily tell it was him speaking and not Susan. Then there was a short spell where he couldn't really hear anything, until he was rocked back in his chair by an unmistakeable cry from Susan as she was penetrated. Next there was a furious burst of sound as the bed rocked angrily on the floor and then a crescendo of orgasmic noises.

Simon had a vivid mental picture of Susan laid wantonly, her eyes shut and her mouth open in a perfect O as Martyn Wilcox came inside her. Involuntarily his hand reached down and touched the prominent bulge in his trousers. His wife had just been fucked by another man and he had listened and been excited by the sounds.

Meanwhile Susan felt Martyn's cock gradually shrinking until it slipped out of her. Then there was that familiar sensation as sperm ran out between her legs.

"I need a tissue."

Martyn rose, pulled a tissue from a box and passed it to her. He let her tidy herself up, but had no intention of stopping after one quick fuck. It might take him a short while to recover, but he had no doubt that given only a modest amount of encouragement he would get hard again. And second time around he would enjoy her body properly.

Susan looked around for a bin to place the tissue in, but Martyn took it from her and threw it to one side. She still had her blouse on and he was impatient to get his first look at those lovely breasts.

He pulled her back onto the bed and began to unbutton her blouse. Her black bra was duly revealed and he pushed a strap off one shoulder. That enabled him to ease one breast out of its lacy cup. Inevitably his head went down and he began to lick and suck her nipple. He felt a pleasurable stiffening in his groin and pleased at his quick recovery he guided Susan's hand down.

Her fingers grasped his slightly sticky cock and as she gently wanked him he became harder. He wasn't fully erect but already he was bigger than Simon. She'd thought that Simon had at best a very average sized cock, but Martyn was large and proud. She knew she could take him and he wasn't so large that he caused discomfort, but he did stretch her.